


Late Night Visit

by magicconchshel



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Injury, M/M, prowl is nice in this one i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24294334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicconchshel/pseuds/magicconchshel
Summary: Jazz discreetly visits Prowl late at night in the med bay after he'd been injured. Prowl is still bogged down by pain killers and convinces Jazz to stay the night with him despite their relationship being a secret.
Relationships: Jazz/Prowl
Comments: 5
Kudos: 135





	Late Night Visit

**Author's Note:**

> I have not posted on here in a LONG time.

Jazz was getting too good at this. 

After crawling through dozens of unfamiliar Decepticon ventilation systems, navigating through the vents on his home base was a breeze. Not wanting anyone to see him climbing into the vents, Jazz had waited until the night shift to go into the public washracks and scale one of the dividers. There were no cameras in there and no one would be using the showers this late at night. But most importantly, the med bay would be quiet. 

Prowl had left this morning on a shuttle to Tyger Pax. It was only supposed to be a two cycle trip, four joors on shuttle. He was sent there to help the Tacticians in Tyger Pax reorganize themselves after they’d lost their Head Tactician. His trip had been cut short, when the shuttle was struck down by a swarm Insecticons halfway to their destination. Thankfully, Prowl was not alone. Prowl had taken a small group of guards with him, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe among them. 

The twins had grabbed Prowl’s attention a few orns ago. Due to their talent on the battlefield, they had been stationed in Iacon. For most, being stationed there was considered an honor. But within cycles of their arrival, they were already causing havoc and were in danger of being expelled from the base until Prowl stepped in. There was a lengthy amount of time in between battles which proved to be too long for a pair as energetic as them. He’d seen how bored they had become. Prowl offered them a secondary job, to act as guards in their downtime. This position offered them less time on the battlefield and more time in the safety of Iacon’s borders. 

More often than not, they were assigned to Prowl. After he’d given them the opportunity, the twins had become fiercely loyal to him. The two of them later learned that they were in danger of being separated had they been kicked from Iacon.

Jazz was grateful that the twins were there with Prowl at the time of the attack. The two of them took the brunt of it. The majority of Prowl’s damage came from the crash. Apparently, he had been walking around the cabin and was thrown against the window at impact. His wings were damaged as well as his leg. He had several puncture wounds from where the Insecticons had tried to grab him. They were likely sent not to assassinate him, but to capture him. 

Thanks to the twins, there were no casualties, but everyone on board was injured. This led Jazz to where he was now. He’d seen Prowl earlier, but with others around, they couldn’t act themselves. Not only that, but Jazz was hesitant to stay around Prowl for too long whenever he was on painkillers, he had a tendency to say things he’d later regret. 

Jazz had made it to the med bay and was crawling over the main room. Through a grate, he could see Sunstreaker and Sideswipe recharging next to each other. Ratchet was one such mech who understood just how important close proximity was to split-spark twins. 

They weren’t hooked up to too many machines, which was a rarity for them. They’d probably be out of the med bay by tomorrow. 

Jazz kept going. He saw First Aid, the medic stationed on the night shift, organizing a shelf in the corner. 

Prowl would be kept in a private room. All officers were put into private rooms when injured for safety and privacy reasons. 

He removed a grate and crawled through a row of vents. Remembering which one Prowl was in, he made the turn and peeked in the room to see him recharging on a plush berth where he’d left him. The lights were dimmed and no one was in sight.

Jazz grabbed the bars of the grate with the tips of his fingers and lifted it as quietly as possible. With that out of the way, he slipped his feet in and dropped down onto the countertop. 

Prowl stayed in recharge. Ratchet had kept him elevated to take some of the weight off his wings. Usually with a doorwing injury, he’d be put on his front, but with the amount of wounds he sustained elsewhere, he had no other choice but to lay face up. He was not draped with a heating tarp like most patients were, but instead a thicker blanket brought in by his brothers. Jazz recognized it. It was the spare blanket he kept underneath his berth for when his bedding was being washed. Underneath the blanket, Prowl’s injured leg was propped up by a pillow. Ratchet said it was good for circulation. 

Jazz climbed off the countertop and tiptoed to his side. There were scratches and puncture wounds all over his frame. They’d been patched, but he still needed a repainting. Ratchet spent hours testing samples of their energon and severed metal to see if the Insecticons left venom in their system. They had not, thankfully. 

He tossed a glance to the monitors at Prowl’s berthside. While Jazz didn’t know what most of them did, he was satisfied with the steady clicks, beeps, and hums they emitted. 

Jazz laid a servo on Prowl’s chevron. He did not move. 

“Prowl,” Jazz whispered. “Prowl, can you hear me?”

When he did not move, Jazz sat on the side of the berth and laid another servo on his. 

“You with me, Prowl?” he asked. 

Prowl’s optics blinked online. They were dim and a dull shade of blue. 

“There you are.” Jazz stood up to move himself further into his view. “How you feelin’?”

Prowl didn’t respond. He squinted and lifted his helm to look around the room. Jazz could tell his processor was still heavy with painkillers. 

Holding Prowl’s servo in his own he asked, “Do you know where you are?”

Prowl still didn’t respond. He lifted his free servo and held it to his helm, wires attached to his wrist followed. He looked confused. 

“Are you alright?” 

Prowl’s helm fell back against the pillow and he let it roll until his optics landed on Jazz. He blinked slowly a couple times, trying to get his optics to remain in focus. Jazz sat beside him again and held his helm with one servo to urge him to focus. 

“Prowl,” Jazz said. 

Prowl’s servo caught Jazz’s wrist and he used it to hold Jazz’s servo where it was. 

“Are you feeling alright?” 

He nodded. 

“Are you in any pain?”

He shook his helm. 

“Do you know who I am?”

He nodded. 

“Good.” Jazz let go of Prowl’s servo and leaned further onto the bed. He cupped Prowl’s helm with both servos. “Do you remember what happened?”

He gave it a moment’s thought before shaking his helm. Prowl was holding both wrists now. He had a loose grip on both of them. 

“I just came by to check on you. I wasn’t able to really see you earlier with everyone here. We keep things to ourselves, remember?”

Jazz was rubbing Prowl’s jaw with his thumbs and Prowl was fighting recharge because of it. With nearly-closed optics he nodded. 

“Do you need anything before I go?”

Prowl jerked, his optics brighter than they were before. “Don’t go.” he pleaded. His voice tapered with static. 

The grip on Jazz’s wrists tightened. “Prowler, I can’t stay here.” Jazz said, trying to keep his voice to a whisper.

“Yes you can.” Prowl persisted. 

Prowl reached over to grab Jazz by the shoulder and pull him closer. Although it was weak, Jazz was compelled to follow. As best he could with his wings in splints, Prowl shuffled to the edge of the berth. He led Jazz further, tossing a corner of the blanket aside to welcome him in. 

“Prowl, we can’t be seen together. If someone walks in-”

He cut Jazz of with a swift tug, and even though he could have fought it, Jazz chose not to. At the end of the day, he really did want to be able to recharge next to Prowl and it seemed that Prowl wanted it just as much as he did. If not more. 

“Come on,” Prowl mumbled. 

“Ok, ok.” Jazz whispered. 

Jazz climbed up into the berth next to Prowl, struggling to be both careful and quiet. First Aid was not as sharp as Ratchet, but he was certainly getting there. Once Jazz had both knees on the berth, Prowl wrapped his arms around him and pulled him towards the pillows. As soon as Jazz fell against the pillows, Prowl dragged the blanket over them both. 

Now satisfied, Prowl leaned back into the disheveled pile of pillows that were once so carefully arranged to cradle his wings. Jazz couldn’t help but feel guilty. Prowl’s wings would feel horrible in the morning. 

He lifted an arm to make room for Jazz to lean into. Jazz followed and settled in at his side. They were squished together. Jazz’s frame was forced into Prowl’s, not that he minded of course. 

These berths were larger and plusher than the ones in the main room, but still were not made for two mechs at once.

Jazz knew he couldn’t stay here for long. It was far too risky. But he wanted Prowl to be able to recharge happily, it’s what he came here to ensure in the first place. 

“Ok,” Jazz said. “I’ll stay for a little while and make sure you recharge well. Sound good, Prowler?” 

Jazz cupped Prowl’s face with his free servo. Prowl turned towards Jazz then leaned forward to touch his chevron to his helm. 

“Don’t leave.” Prowl said. 

Jazz stroked his cheek until he shut his optics. “Don’t worry, I won’t”

* * *

The Prime met with Ratchet first thing the next morning to discuss Prowl’s medical leave. He hadn’t seen Prowl or anyone else present on the shuttle since they had left yesterday morning, but he’d read the report. 

“I’m putting Prowl on leave until further notice.” Ratchet said, “He can’t function right now as is and if those wings don’t heal right he’ll be in for a world of hurt.”

“I see.” Optimus hummed. “And what about his leg?”

Ratchet waved him off. “His leg will be fine as long as he stays off of it. I know he’ll be wanting to work as soon as his pain meds wear off, but he’ll be berthridden for a few decacycles. I’ll put him on light duty once he’s coherent, but anything more than that and I’ll have his helm.”

“Of course, Ratchet.” Optimus nodded. “Is he coherent now? I’d like to speak to him if that’s alright.”

Ratchet shrugged and began leading him towards the private rooms. “He might be. I had him on a high dosage last night to help him recharge. If he’s still out of it, you can try again later.”

Ratchet opened the door for Optimus and grabbed the data pad hanging next to the door. He began skimming through it, but his attention was diverted when he realized that Optimus had stopped in the door frame. 

“What? What is it?” Ratchet asked. 

When he got no answer, he muscled through, but was also stopped in his tracks when he realized what they were looking at. 

Jazz was laying on top of Prowl’s chassis, just about the only non-injured part of his frame. He held his chevron in one hand and hugged Prowl’s frame with the other. Prowl lay beneath him, deep in recharge, but still holding Jazz to him. He was no longer propped up like Ratchet had left him. He had sunked down into the pillows, his wings splayed behind him. While his leg was still propped up, his other was tangled in between Jazz’s legs. 

“Uh,” Ratchet breathed. 

“Perhaps it is best we give them some time.” Optimus suggested. 

“Right,” Ratchet managed. “We’ll come back some other time.”

**Author's Note:**

> BTW feel free to comment other one-shot ideas. I like writing them, but I don't always have ideas for them.  
> 


End file.
